


Never Walk Away

by Aynde



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Citadel life, F/M, Garrus Centric, Garrus Vakarian is a Good Friend, Gen, Spectre Garrus, Turians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynde/pseuds/Aynde
Summary: The black market organ dealer Saleon wasn't 'the case Garrus' couldn't let go'. He solved it, in fact; but Garrus never would have seen where solving it took him.It was a move that caught the attention of people who played with higher stakes. Being a Spectre was what Garrus had dreamed of growing up. The reality very well may chew him up and spit him out instead.Approaching the Council after Eden Prime, Shepard is told that 'The Council is already investigating into Saren.' Talk is cheap, though, so she goes out of her way to find the one running the investigation herself: Council Spectre Garrus Vakarian.
Relationships: Avitus Rix/Original Male Character, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

Everything was going according to plan, Garrus told himself.

Sure, interrogation had uncovered some disquieting facts, but as of right now, he had all the evidence he needed to can this guy, the warrant was in his pocket, and traffic, for once, was decent for the Citadel transit lanes.

 _Was_ going to plan.

Because Garrus had no more stepped foot into the Ward proper when he caught sight of his perp running.

Somehow, somebody had managed to tip Saleon off.

"Shit. No." Dread filled him, and Garrus took off after him. "Stop him!" He called out desperately at the officers on duty loitering at the end of the street.

Slow on the uptake, it took vital seconds for two of his fellow C-Sec officers to look up at his shout. Garrus swore as Saleon ducked past them.

Garrus went through his options, although they were hopelessly limited. Can't use a gun, not even a tranq, too crowded.

Sprinting hard, he accidentally shoulder checked someone before he could weave, and Garrus caught sight of a disgruntled Krogan as he loped after the Salarian.

He lit up his omni-tool. "This is Officer Vakarian requesting backup. I'm transmitting my position right now. The suspect is a Salarian, late 20's, wearing, uh, purple. He is currently on the run heading north through Aroch Ward. Bar all C-Transit from Shalta and Aroch to the Docks. I repeat, bar all C-Transit from Shalta and Aroch to the Docks."

Static, then, "Copy that."

Who knew Salarians could run so fast. Garrus sure as hell didn't. Still, all too soon, Garrus found himself transitioning into the enclosed Shalta concourse and swore as his feet lost traction.

"I must've... gotten soft... since leaving the military." He huffed even as he took a running leap down a flight of stairs.

Then: a break.

Down on the floor beneath him, Dr. Saleon was in clear view for a precious few seconds. Garrus hit the railing hard against his hips and leaned over.

Not enough time to shoot, no. Not with all those civvies. But Saleon was within the ten meters required for bio feedback, give or take another flight of stairs. Clear was clear. Garrus targeted him and instigated his tracking protocol.

As an afterthought, Garrus transmitted the details back to C-Sec, too.

500 meters tracking was a great deal of leeway for Garrus to take this guy down. He could still save this and take Saleon in.

Garrus jogged to the nearest stairs.

The ongoing chase was almost comical, in a way. Certainly it resembled something out of a bad vid: A Turian Officer running after a suspect through the Wards and struggling to catch him. Humans had 'donut jokes' about C-Sec officers failing at this. All that was missing was a convenient vehicle, or explosions, and Garrus wasn't risking _that_.

"...ian, come in Vakarian." Garrus caught through his transmitter.

"What is it? Kind of busy." He panted, irritated.

"Legal's got too much redtape, we can't ground anything." It was Chellick in his ear, giving him the bad news. "You're going to have to catch him on foot."

On foot. Turians are built for endurance, not this constant sprinting. "What about my backup!" Garrus' subvocals flanged wildly beneath his panting breath. Here's hoping it didn't transmit through the radio channel, that was almost embarrassing.

Chellick's voice came through again. "We have Officers en-route to your position, but your guy must have a good map, they keep missing you."

Vitriol filled Garrus, and he bit back another curse. That right there said more about C-Sec itself, not how fast Garrus had been running, damn it.

"Understood, Vakarian out."

262 meters and counting. If Garrus didn't figure something out soon, he was going to lose him. Huffing he put on another burst of speed, but rounded a tight corner far too fast, running into someone again.

"Ow!"

Aaaand, apparently bowled that someone over. Garrus glanced back.

If it had been anyone other than a Quarian, Garrus wouldn't have stopped. He almost kept running, in fact. But common courtesy took over, and Garrus scanned the figure on the ground. "Is your suit in tact!?" He demanded, impatient.

"Barely." A young man's voice rang out wryly, amplified through the mouthpiece. "But no worries, Officer, our suits are made of sterner stuff than a turian-tram can puncture. Maybe if you were a Krogan."

Garrus' eyes already focused on his visor, but he held out an arm anyway. 278, 279.. The Quarian took it, and Garrus heaved him up. He rattled off his ID number. "P-0556606. Garrus Vakarian, Investigations department. Feel free to contact my Supe. about this but I've gotta get after that guy."

As Garrus was turning, a complicated sound came out of the Quarian's throat. Then, three fingers gripped his elbow. Garrus tensed.

The black and yellow clad Turian stepped in front of him. "You helped me up. Let me help you out." His readout climbed steadily as the Quarian took a few steps down and then into an alley. Rustling and a few clangs rang out.

340\. 343. Brimming with impatience, Garrus prepared to take off again, when the Quarian reappeared.

Garrus' mouth dropped open.

"Those are prohibited outside authorized sections, transit lanes and open air wards. Section 173, article 45." Garrus couldn't help but quote, even as he admired the sleek (black and yellow, was that a theme for this Quarian?) chopper bike in front of him.

He could feel the quelling look the Quarian gave him through the helmet. "Are you getting on or are you going to start running again?"

Right.

Without a second to delay, Garrus hopped behind the young man. "Keep going that way for now. I'm going to sync his vitals tracking with your omni-tool."

"Got it." Then they were up in the air and off. Garrus ducked his head down to keep his fringe from brushing the ceiling of the ward. His hand smoothed across it to check it over before he got to business.

A bit of fiddling, and then a map appeared on the Quarian's omni-tool, with a blinking light helpfully showing Saleon's location. Garrus kept an eye on his visor just in case.

This thing was _fast_ , Garrus noted happily as the readout steadily decreased.

Although, after the first person screamed and ducked out of the way, Garrus asked, "Does this beast have an audio system?" Perhaps they could play sirens?

The Quarian huffed with laughter. "Does it have an audio system." Garrus' heart leapt to his throat as the Quarian steered one handed to type something out on his omni-tool. Had Garrus really sat astride bitch for such a reckless driver?

Moments later, "Die for the Cause" rang out astonishingly loudly from the little vehicle, giving civvies ample time to register the oncoming bike.

Nevermind. Garrus' mandibles spread in a grin. Sure the Quarian was obviously a loose rule-breaker, but damn if Garrus didn't appreciate his style. Even if he had hacked Garrus' tech with his eyes off the road while driving.

Light at the end of the block, they were getting closer. His visor zoomed in on a swarm of people, and Garrus could see the tips of that disgusting bastard's cranial horns weave through the crowd.

Saleon had slowed down, and at first Garrus assumed that it was from the throng of people, or lack of stomping, swearing 200 pound Turian behind him. But as they zoomed closer, Garrus could see that wasn't it.

They were at the edge of the Ward, where docks met actual docking. The bastard was in line to get on a civilian liner.

And unfortunately, while the 200 pound Turian might no longer be tipping him off, but the Turian Anthem sure as hell did.

Garrus and Saleon's eyes locked.

The bastard bolted, shouting, pushing past people, inciting a riot, "He's getting through!" Garrus called out, despaired. He couldn't loose him now! Garrus was too close!

His comm patched through to the security desk, trying to get them to stop Saleon at the turnstile. Confusion and redtape and damn it all anyway.

Then they were clear of the Ward halls, in the open air of the dock.

A warning shot pinged against his shields. His Quarian helper yelped in protest. "Hey, watch the paintjob!" came out at the same time as an amplified security warning from the officer on duty.

Garrus could see how this was going to go.

Security at the docks was so focused on the obvious, blaring threat that Saleon was going to get through.

They whizzed above the heads, closer and closer, the readout on his visor changed to heat signature.

Twelve guns aimed at them.

"Vakarian, you're putting out for my bail over this, right?" The Quarian asked as he slowed the vehicle.

Garrus rolled his eyes. "Please, so long as I catch this guy, that's the least I could do."

The Quarian nodded. "Right then, hold on tight and get ready to jump to go after that guy. I'll help when I can." With those words lingering between them, the driver flipped two switches and gunned the engine. They flew up at a steep angle, hard and fast, above C-Sec's heads.

Shouts and gunshots rang out from seven out of those guns, the rest hopefully seeing his uniform and abstaining. As it is, a shield around the whole vehicle absorbed the impacts easily, and seconds later they were turning - then falling - hard to the ground.

Garrus flung himself from the rear with the momentum and hoofed it after Saleon, flashing his badge, hoping he wasn't too late. Two of the dock officers followed on his heels.

He couldn't see him. His readouts were blank, no signature.

"The Liner at bay C-34 for Illium is now departing."

Garrus swung around, and, yes, there. He was in that liner. "Stop that departure!"

One of the officers spoke up. "We can't do that, we don't have that kind of authorization." They looked at Garrus as though he were a wild animal.

Garrus felt like a wild animal. He was seconds later from suggesting the ship be taken down - lives depended on Saleon not getting free! - when a voice spoke up.

"Done."

There was silence in the docks as all of the docking arms locked into place and several ships engines cut power abruptly.

The Quarian, leaning casually against his bike, surrounded by ten officers, had his Omni-tool loaded up and was emanating smugness.

Garrus wanted to applaud him. As it was, he turned on his heel and approached C-34. The doors opened obligingly, and a sea of pallid faces stared at him.

Finding Saleon was easy. He was the only one frantically trying to pry open the emergency exit port. Garrus reached over and wrenched his arms behind his back. "Gonur Saleon, you are under arrest for seven counts of murder, three counts of bodily harm, blackmarket dealings, obstruction..." He rattled off the nauseatingly impressive list of crimes, and, after he secured his omni-cuffs around Saleon's wrists, escorted him off the liner.

A group of C-Sec officers were waiting for him outside. Without a word, Garrus reached into his breast pocket and looked up into this stations Superintendent's grave eyes before handing over the warrant for arrest. Three officers came up and escorted Saleon.

Garrus looked around, searching. There, near the edge of the group, his Quarian ally shrugged at him, his elbow caught by a human security officer. Then he fiddled with his Omni-tool and the nearby engines obligingly turned on.

Garrus took a step, but a hand on his shoulder stalled him. The Turian Supe' stared at him, hard. 

"Vakarian, this is all well and good, but we're going to have to talk to the Executor after all this."

* * *

"Suspension is the least of your worries over handling this issue."

Garrus bristled. "I did what needed to be done in order to bring him in. No one got hurt, and he'll stand trial in a matter of days."

Pallin quoted articles at him. Garrus defended himself. To say they butt heads over the issue was an understatement.

"You're a loose canon, Vakarian. We can't condone this behavior!"

His mandibles drew tight against his jaw. "If Saleon escaped-"

And around again went the argument.

* * *

Thirty day suspension, with reinstatement pending.

Garrus stormed out of the office and met the stares of sixteen coworkers. "What." His voice flanged sharply.

A slow clap started in the office, and Garrus closed his eyes and wished his patience hadn't disappeared three hours ago. This wasn't about his victory. No it was about his overly long, overly loud conversation with Pallin that no doubt every last one of them had heard.

"All you you can fuck yourselves, too. I don't need this." He stormed past them all, then stopped to look at Chellick. "Wait, where can I find the Quarian? He wasn't left at Shalta station, was he?"

Chellick rolled his green eyes. "Of course he's still over there. No one here knew enough to do the transfer order."

Of course.

Garrus grabbed his civvy jacket from his chair. "Right, well it was nice working with you all, hopefully I'll have my job back again next month. Though it'll be too soon to see your ugly face again, Decian. Someone clean out the perishables from my desk. I'm 'not allowed to touch anything'." Garrus air-quoted.

Chellick stood, "I'll go with you, Garrus. You'll probably need someone official if you're just pulling him out of the block."

Garrus' brow ridge raised, but he didn't say anything as they left the station.

They walked in tandem to transit, and it was only once they were seated that Garrus spoke. "I was prepared to pay bail for the guy if necessary. He really helped me out with this case."

Decian Chellick shook his head. "You'll need the funds for the month, and he aided in the investigation. If you hadn't tripped over him, Saleon would have gone free. C-Sec's take on acceptable risks is..."

They shared a grimace.

Something still didn't add up.

"Why are you really accompanying me." Garrus prodded.

Green eyes studied him quietly. For a moment, Garrus didn't think he'd tell him. Then:

"Apparently, you really impressed someone high up at Shalta, even if you were brought before Pallin. He wanted access to some of your files that couldn't be brought up across systems." Chellick spoke quietly.

Garrus crossed his arms. "Well, that's a surprise. But if he wants me at Shalta, I already have one C-Sec job. I don't need a shittier department out in the Wards, and he can't reinstate me without Pallin's approval anyway."

"Sometimes it's not about where." Chellick said quietly. "Sometimes, it's who."

After that cryptic statement, the rest of the ride was quiet.

Shalta station was quiet with only a skeleton crew when they arrived; Garrus figured they were doing cleanup from the madness earlier. An Asari looked up as they approached, and her eyes widened at Garrus.

"We didn't think you'd be back today." She told him, standing with the sign in padd.

Garrus affected a look of nonchalance. "Well, I couldn't leave unfinished business here overnight. Where's the Quarian?"

His frequencies had been cut, Garrus noticed, as he was only able to hear one side of the page the Asari sent out for an escort.

The Quarian hadn't been treated badly, Garrus could see as they approached the cell block. He appeared to be deftly tossing and catching some type of ball against the barrier wall.

"About time." He stood, spreading out his arms in mock impatience. "I've been waiting for hours."

"Heh, sorry about that, had to run into a few brick walls before they let me out myself." Garrus said sarcastically, he supposed one could count Pallin as a wall.

Chellick was talking to the officer down the hall, so Garrus leaned against the wall while they waited.

"So what's your name, anyway?" He finally asked. It had been bothering Garrus since they separated all those hours ago.

"Zen'Aster nar Helash, at your service." The black and yellow clad Quarian gave a theatrical bow.

Garrus' brow plates rose. "nar Helash, you're on your pilgrimage?" He'd known the Quarian was young, he supposed, though his skill... then again, this was a Quarian. Technical skill went hand in hand.

"Yes indeed! I am nearing the end of it, in fact." Mirth was in the Quarian's voice. "Assuming I ever find anything sufficiently valuable enough to merit me my own ship, which, really, is my Pilgrimage goal. Ah, that will be the day, I will name us _Eldritch_ and together we will conquer the stars... or something, I suppose." He shrugged philosophically. "In truth, I am in no hurry to end my pilgrimage, though that day may come soon."

" _Eldritch_?" Garrus repeated, incredulous. It didn't exactly translate.

Zen'Aster beamed at him. "Why yes. It is a myth of human origins that I think would suit me perfectly."

Garrus gazed at him flatly. "Suit you perfectly." Of all the...

"Do you always repeat what people say like this, because my estimation of your intelligence will just keep going down if this keeps up." Zen'Aster mocked him.

Luckily for Garrus' fraying temper, in the next instant the barrier came down, and Zen'Aster was freed.

Garrus accompanied him to the lockers, and as Zen'Aster made quick work of his belongings, considered what to say.

"I owe you for what you did earlier, Zen'Aster nar Helash." Is what ultimately came out of his mouth. Too formal. Garrus hid a wince.

The Quarian turned to peer at him. "Not that I am in any position to complain, but it seems to me this is all in a good day's work. You kindly made sure I did not die of infection on the floor, we stopped someone who I assume was particularly nasty judging by what I overheard of your arresting speech, and I got to take my beautiful bike out for a wild whirl. It didn't even get impounded." Zen'Aster finished, satisfied.

"That's it?" Garrus asked incredulously. "No, that can't be it. Look, I don't think you know what a big deal it was when you stopped that ship, and even getting me there. If that perp had escaped..."

"It would have haunted you." A new voice stepped in. "It might have even driven you away from C-Sec. You have a strong sense of justice, Garrus Vakarian. It might have even led to you your downfall, eventually. The disillusioned often turn vigilante."

Turian, shorter than Garrus by a few centimeters. Decked out in armor, wasn't from C-Sec. He looked like he had a good decade on Garrus, too. Chellick, and that Supe, was standing several paces down the hall from them. Chellick looked nervous.

Zen'Aster turned to shuffle behind him ever so slightly. In his transmitter, Garrus heard the Quarian's voice pipe up. No indication or noise came from the suite itself. "Do you know this guy? because I'm getting mixed vibes. I was prepared to deal with you, and C-Sec. Whoever that is? Not so much."

"Who _are_ you?" Garrus took a step forward to meet the other Turian's gaze firmly and let his frame cover Zen'Aster's.

Yellow on black eyes flickered as they caught the motion, then held Garrus' gaze. After a moment, his mandibles twitched, pleased.

"Avitus Rix. Council Spectre."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A writing bug bit me again. I THINK I can do this a little bit of justice, assuming my bad habits don't catch up to me.
> 
> Shepard will be in chapter three and scattered throughout, but ME1 plot won't start for a while.
> 
> Note-y notes:  
> I get that Garrus is a bit of a hotshot in me1 and they emphasize how much he learns from Shepard, but I'm parsing through information to narrow things down and I don't see how he can be two-four years younger than Shepard and have completed his mandatory military training?  
> Thought process: Turians have mandatory service at 15 until they are 'about 30' and either continue or find another public service style career while technically also being in the reserves. If I stretch it and say, 'ten years of mandatory service' instead of 'until 30' then sure, that would make him a max of twenty seven probably to shep's twenty nine. But I don't think he would have gotten that far in C-Sec as he did in two years, either, especially if Saleon was 'a few years ago'? Perhaps I'm overthinking this, but if anyone has feedback on it I'll take it. But I'm going with 'about the same age' instead, maybe a few months older.
> 
> Also, Shepard is fucking exceptional. Like you go into ME1 and they're praising her for the origin actions and whatever but. Alliance Naval Officer Commander at 29. Special Ops on top of that. Shepard is already great before you play them, and not a lot of people seem cognizant of what goes into military ranks.
> 
> ME3 gives Turian's generals and lieutenants ect for their officers, and I'm pretty sure that Vakarian would have sent him through officer school. He probably withdrew from service as a captain or major, probably the former because of his bit of greenness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good rewards for bad behavior.

Hundreds of candidates apply to be a part of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance each year. Few succeed.

Beyond every hundred of conventional Spectre candidates, there's someone out there who gets poached, instead. As they say, you don't really _apply_ for Spectre, after all, though the forms exist.

It's actions that get you noticed, that make a Spectre: a showcase of exceptional ability and self-reliance, getting a tough job down.

A deceptively basic formula, but one that works.

"That was quite the show, Vallix." Avitus mentioned in an offhand manner as he walked up to Shalta's Superintendent. All around the docks, flashing holo-tape was being put up by C-Sec officers as they struggled to contain the scene, with a long queue off to the side as officers took statements from disgruntled, delayed passengers.

Not taking his eyes off the scene, Savio Vallix's mandibles drew tight against his face. "Rix. Why am I not surprised you showed up."

Most citizens of the Citadel had never actually seen a Spectre, much less met them, but Savio was a peer of his and had served with Avitus long before he'd achieved Spectrehood.

While the two Turians had never been particularly close, their unit kept tabs on each other, in the casual manner of 'So and so has or hasn't died yet' notes, or 'Varania is expecting, bet Jovian is sad that ship had sailed.' With Savio having gotten as far up in C-Sec as he had, Avitus made an effort to keep closer tabs on him as a potential source, as well.

"A clamor like this? I could hear it from my apartment." The Spectre said dryly.

"You don't own a Citadel apartment, Rix." Vallix flicked through an update on his pad. "You're too late anyway. Everything has been contained, and this isn't exactly the type of situation that calls for a Spectre."

"If that was true, I wouldn't be here." Avitus pointed out, the casual words belayed by a hard tone of voice. They may have been bandying about in a joking manner, but Avitus _would_ use rank, if necessary. If what he'd caught on the feed was worth it.

Vallix finally turned and met Avitus' eyes. He had a very complicated micro-expression before it smoothed itself out. Avitus knew then and there that this was, indeed, a goldmine.

Avitus had always been good at finding a pulse.

"Right, I'll assume you already know the basics, so let's head to my office where I can fill you in further." Vallix sighed, then lead the way through the tape and into the docks security offices.

It was quiet inside the precinct.

As soon as the door closed, Avitus fixed the Superintendent with a firm stare. "Every ship in Dock E stalled."

"We have the Quarian who did it in custody." Vallix assured the Spectre. "And Officer Vakarian is being reprimanded by Executor Pallin as we speak."

Avitus paused. Vakarian was a name that had crossed his desk before in more than one capacity. "The younger Vakarian? Castis Vakarian is far too by the book for that spectacle."

"That's the one." Vallix confirmed, his subvoscis fluttering and letting out a frustrated hum. "He's attached to Presidium's C-Sec Investigations department. He's had a recent string of successes in his cases, and more recently his logs show that he's been trying to bust a blackmarket organ dealer on the Presidium. Vakarian might have bitten off more than he could swallow, but he had a break in the case last night at 2200 that got him the warrant he needed first thing this morning."

"So that explains why he was leading the charge, but..." Avitus probed, though the picture was already gaining clarity.

Vallix nodded. "Backup wasn't responding in time, and Vakarian was losing him. At some point, though, he got assistance from that Quarian and caught up to his suspect at the docks. Unfortunately, without proper authorization, he was still looking at his guy getting away."

Avitus hummed thoughtfully. "So Vakarian took matters into his own hands."

"Correct."

Young, resourceful, and got the job done. And he came with an attitude of damn the consequences in spades.

Avitus leaned forward. "I want Vakarian's file."

"He could be a liability." Vallix warned cautiously.

His mandibles drew tight against his face. "I won't repeat myself." Avitus' tone brooked no questions.

The Superintendent nodded with reluctant obedience. "I'll let my contact know, Spectre Rix."

"Notify me when he gets here."

* * *

There was something about having a legend standing in front of him and staring him down that made Garrus feel about ten centimeters tall. He'd think it was just him, but the way that Zen'Aster was clutching at Garrus' upper arm spoke differently.

Suddenly the rumors about Spectre's towering over their marks with lightening shooting out of their eyes made a whole lot more sense.

"Whose to say? I enjoy the satisfaction of finishing a job, and I think would have seen Saleon through." The Turian's assessment was still off putting. When in doubt, deflect. "Spectre Rix? Can't say I've ever heard of you."

"I wouldn't make a good Spectre if you had." Rix countered.

Garrus supposed that could be true, with only a few like Spectre Kyrik being figures of true, galactic renown. It still galled him to think of it; Garrus liked knowing who he was dealing with _before_ he walked into a shitshow.

Chellick was starting to look awfully guilty down the hall. Garrus abruptly remembered his shifty behavior, the fact that he'd brought files with them, and that Garrus had apparently 'impressed' someone.

"The Council doesn't send out a Spectre for simple incidents like today, that's what Pallin was for." Garrus deduced quickly. "No, you're here for either me or Zen'Aster, and something tells me it's not the latter."

"Well that's a relief." Zen'Aster spoke up. "I'm uncertain of the code of conduct between a Spectre and the Migrant Fleet." The Quarian's weren't a Council race, their attempts centuries ago ended rather explosively with the Geth.

"I believe general avoidance is the usual policy." Rix agreed. "But in this case I do want to speak with the both of you. Follow me."

Zen'Aster's grip loosened reluctantly as they set off. Garrus paused as he reached where Chellick was loitering and looked him hard in the eye. "Either I'm going to punch you out later, or we're going out for drinks." Not waiting, Garrus slapped him hard on the shoulder and continued on.

As Rix strode past interrogation, Garrus relaxed a bit.

Garrus wasn't much of an optimist, but he'd really rather _not_ be dragged in the box for questioning. Suffice to say, he was feeling almost hopeful as Rix unlocked the door to an office.

Cluttered, a human's no doubt. Not much room if a fight broke out either.

Garrus sat down when prompted.

"Vakarian, I want you to tell me when things got out of hand." Rix asked him, paused as if he was going to add more, and then just waited.

"Out of hand?" Garrus echoed. What an odd phrase, because Garrus had had it handled. Well, up to.. "The end, would be my guess. It was frustrating to be sure, chasing down the perp and not getting sufficient backup. But when Saleon reached the docks, well, it really showed sheer incompetence. Shalta had ample warning to arrange to detain him, and didn't."

The Spectre let out a hum. "So you don't blame yourself, but C-Sec?"

Garrus hesitated.

"Why should he?" Zen'Aster piped up, indignant. "Garrus had him tagged, I saw it myself. It shouldn't just be on him to stop someone!"

"No, I see what he's getting at." Garrus interrupted. "Rix is wondering why I didn't declare it a loss from the start. I was alone when Saleon ran. Protocol demands that I should have waited for backup, not engaging." Then he shook his head. "Sir, that's bullshit. There were two officers in that Aroch plaza who could have provided immediate backup that failed to do so."

Garrus leaned forward, determined. "There was absolutely no way for me to act on that arrest sooner to prevent all this. As soon as I got that warrant I was out the door. He was running, not fighting or threatening. C-Sec could have coordinated a pickup."

Rix changed tracks. "Why chase, though? You could have organized a detaining yourself."

The embarrassing answer was that he hadn't thought about it, or that Turian's chase; a cop-out to be sure, because Garrus prided himself on being beyond what his instincts told him to do.

"By the time I got a lock on his position and relayed it to C-Sec, there was no way I could control his movements. It was better for me to keep going until I either got backup, or a break. And you can't think it was a mistake to keep going, not when in the end I brought him in." Garrus was getting a bit frustrated, as everything was starting to be a bit too circular for his liking. He'd already gone over this and more back at Presidium HQ. "Running into Zen'Aster delayed me, but his assistance was crucial today. I got the job done."

"No, Vakarian. You could have done better." His eyes burned like fire.

The words were a blow.

Then, surprising Garrus, he addressed Zen'Aster for the first time directly.

"You are a lucky Quarian, Zen'Aster nar Helash." Rix didn't look particularly happy to make that declaration. "Simultaneous hacking and takeover of those civilian ships to stall them is one thing... but overriding the docking arms. You're very lucky you're not getting deported out of Citadel space."

Well, when put like that, Garrus suddenly realized how big a deal it had been, having Zen'Aster bring the docks to a halt.

"If there had been a single civilian casualty, the Admiralty would not be able to protect you." Rix continued.

Unsaid was that Garrus wouldn't have been able to protect him, either.

Zen'Aster tilted his chin up. "It was a risky bet, to be sure." He acknowledged. "The odds of damage to the arms was the greatest, at 792 to 1. But I timed everything perfectly, and the inspection will pass in working order."

"What, no mention of the hundreds of civilian lives at risk?" Rix tested stoically.

The Quarian spread out his hands, and said nothing.

Garrus was all too aware of how close he had come on the docks to requesting the ship be taken down, himself. That... probably would have gone badly, now that Garrus had had time to process everything.

Avitus Rix could read him like a book, apparently, turning that green gaze on Garrus.

"Garrus Vakarian, desperation does no favors." The Spectre told him. "That being said, you're an utter waste in C-Sec."

Garrus held his breath.

"I'm authorizing the restoration of your Spectre application." Rix lit up his Omni-tool as he spoke. "It will be fast tracked and, more importantly, accepted for training immediately. Your father won't be able to interfere and withdraw it this time."

Avitus leaned forward and steepled his talons. "You're going to have to put in the effort, Vakarian." Rix warned the younger Turian. "Spectre training is no joke, you're looking at the next six months of learning and doing things you never would have before. It's a steep learning curve." The Spectre admitted, thinking back to when Saren had approached him years ago. "And you're going to be following me, not me following you."

"If you fail, I'm not going to guarantee you'll get back into C-Sec. But if you don't want to become a Spectre, tell me now and your probation will be standing."

"Why wouldn't I?" Garrus asked sardonically. "Spectre, if I hadn't thought it through the first time, then I never would have applied for the program."

Even if it had caused him to butt heads with his father.

"I'm holding you to that, Vakarian." Rix told him severely as he stood up.

Accountability.

Garrus wasn't quite sure what to make of that. For some reason, it _felt_ different.

"The THV Aurion of the 6th Fleet is docked at B12. It's currently undergoing maintenance repairs, but is scheduled to launch in three days time at 0410. It goes without being said that if you miss departure, you can consider yourself barred." Rix held out his arm.

Garrus stood and clasped his forearm. "I'll be there." He swore unflinchingly.

Rix nodded at Zen'Aster, sprawled with fake nonchalance in the far chair. "I had better not see you too soon."

Zen'Aster waggled his fingers. "Don't worry, we Quarian's are good at disappearing."

"That's what worries me." The Spectre said, then departed the room with nary a whisper.

"Well. That just happened." Garrus blew out a breath and ran a hand through his fringe.

Zen'Aster hopped to his feet. "It _definitely_ could have gone worse, yes." He approached Garrus and elbowed him. "Though you seemed quite the good Turian soldier there, all excited over _being a Spectre_ ooooh."

Garrus coughed awkwardly. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Oh, absolutely." Zen'Aster assured him; Garrus could tell that the Quarian was laughing at him. " _Of course_ I can do that Mr. Spectre Sir!" The falsetto coming through the suit was disarmingly amusing.

Garrus snorted.

"I guess I just imagined you baiting him, then." Garrus shot back as they exited the office.

"Baiting?" Mirth filled the Quarian's voice. "I am always 100% confident in my tech, and it showed is all!"

"That's not how it looked to me." Garrus countered, then stopped to turn and look straight at Zen'Aster. "Tell me though, did you really not care about the civilians?" He lowered his voice.

Zen'Aster faltered, and tugged at the material belted at his waist. "That is..." He spread his arms helplessly. "Complicated?"

Garrus wasn't sure how to react. "Complicated? How is caring complicated?" He demanded, but a small part of him felt like he already knew the answer. In the moment, had _he_ cared?

"I would care, yes, had there been anyone who died or was injured by my actions." Zen'Aster fumbled his way through his explanation. "But I _knew_ I could do it. There was no hesitation, you see, no need to calculate what-if, only what to do."

Garrus was quiet for a moment, and felt shamed.

 _Desperation does no favors_. Avitus Rix's voice rang in his ears.

The grin that parted his mandibles was a bit forced.

"You know, Zen'Aster." Garrus ran a talon along his mandible in fake-thought. "I bet if you had said _that_ to the Spectre, he'd have tried to tap you for the program instead."

"Me?" Zen'Aster laughed. "A Quarian Spectre? That will _never_ happen." He jogged down the hall backwards. "I don't know which suggestion is more farfetched."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Garrus caught up to him. "You know I'm right, though."

Zen'Aster was busy looking up at the lights. "Quuuaarriiian Speccctrrree.... hah."

Obviously, there was a plethora of reasons why that would never happen, chief among them the lack of _any_ good relation between the Council races and the Migrant Fleet.

Logistics aside, it was still a nice thought.

Bit of a shame, really.

"Thought you'd never come out of there." Chellick's voice scoffed as he approached.

"Decian." Garrus greeted, keeping his tone in check. "I didn't expect you to stick around."

The other Turian looked surprisingly tired standing there before him.

"Vallix wanted me to stick around until the 'problems' left." Chellick quoted with a grimace. "Since I came in with you, I'm your babysitter now. Guy's old school."

Garrus nodded in commiseration, he'd gotten a 'For the Hierarchy' impression from Vallix, himself. "Right, well then let me introduce you before I mess up your fringe-game. Decian, this is Zen'Aster nar Helash." The Quarian had quieted and looked at Chellick with those luminescent eyes glowing through the mask. Garrus wondered if he was trying to be creepy. "Zen'Aster, Decian Chellick is one of the more tolerable of my coworkers."

Perhaps not Garrus' favorite, but he was definitely in his good book.

"Pleased to meet you, I think." Zen'Aster said wryly. "Now what does you sticking around entail? Because I believe I overheard Garrus mention something about drinks if he made Spectre?"

Chellick's bright green eyes widened and cut to Garrus, incredulous. "You?! And you didn't start with that?"

Garrus elbowed Zen'Aster, who laughed. "I would have thought it obvious by the conversation you walked in on, Decian."

Chellick stared a bit more. "Owe me a drink is right." He finally said faintly. "Let's get a move on, I think Chora's Den is calling."

"Hell no." Garrus ribbed him, "I've got class now, we can't go _there._ "

Zen'Aster piped up, "If I may, I have a suggestion..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit notes: I've never had so much anxiety writing something before. Like I've got some legit interloper anxiety and I'm not sure why. I literally tried posting this chapter yesterday and went "IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH EDIT IT MORE CQC/QCC IT TO HELL" and took it down in fear to edit it. Again.
> 
> OG notes: I actually kind of wrote myself into a hole on this one, because I realized too late that Avitus has Spectre authorization to pull up files willy-nilly and wouldn't need someone to bring it to him. But let's just say some things can't be accessed remotely and that's why Chellick was a snitch lol.
> 
> Me, trying to figure out how Turian's segment up hours: fucckkkk.  
> I'm usually ok at math, but clearly I'm unable to figure this out lol I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to figure out how a Turian would analyze a day, Palaven time and Citadel time and in the end gave up. I knew there was zero guarantee that a Turian hour would be sixty minutes which are sixty seconds. But there also is no guarantee that a Turian second is an Earth second. Because have you ever looked into what goes into a second?? Pendulums, gravitational force, atomic science... Knowing that it's days are 28.3 earth hours long? Not enough information.
> 
> I think of this every time I was writing "found a lead at 2100 last night" or "meet me at 0400" and it was a Turian speaking and therefore probably instead only be what a human translator would tell them they were saying, not the actual time. D:
> 
> Subvoscis: My made up word for the tiny subvocal nostrils on the bridge of the Turian nose. They needed a name besides nostrils, and the word "proboscis" is a more technical term for over large beaks and noses like elephant's trunks. Sub for small instead of pro, added the 'v' in there rather arbitrarily for vocal. I probably won't use it much and might nix in editing.


End file.
